


Obsidian Files

by TrashcanKitty



Series: Left In The Aftermath [3]
Category: Winx Club
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Forced Arousal, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, Forced to beg, Magic Misuse, Manipulation, Mirror Sex, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, None of this is consensual, Nothing is consented too, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Coercion, Sexual desperation, Suicidal Thoughts, Swapping view points, This is not a good story even if it does end happily in the long run, Torture, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but its a chapter thing, companion to Left in the Aftermath, lost time from when Griffin was discovered, not really - Freeform, on both parts, potential war crimes, ruined orgasm, you can tell easily who's pov it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23021566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashcanKitty/pseuds/TrashcanKitty
Summary: Only two people know what really happened in that room, after Griffin was supposed to have been "taken care of" by the Coven, Valtor and Griffin themselves.Valtor's dead, Griffin won't talk.These are the missing moments, this is what happened before the raid on Obsidian.
Relationships: Griffin/Valtor | Baltor (Winx Club), Mentioned Past Relationships - Relationship, mentioned Oritel/Marion
Series: Left In The Aftermath [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588174
Comments: 36
Kudos: 12





	1. Claiming What Was Taken

**Author's Note:**

> My last warning:
> 
> This is not a good story. This is not something you want to read to feel good with. This is about warfare and using a woman's feelings to protect others against her. This is about a guy who though a victim himself, is still a horrible and terrible person and shouldn't be seen as a good thing.
> 
> This is a dark fic. This is explicit. You've been warned.

**Claiming What Was Taken**

He frowned listening as his mothers droned on to the Inner Circle about their upcoming plans for the Magical Dimension. That’s not what he came for, not what any of them came for.

 _Griffin_. She was why they were really here.

Everyone knew the spy had outlived her usefulness. She was uncooperative, spiteful, and just as resourceful as she’d ever been. A thorn in his mothers’ sides.

(He’d never went down into the dungeons where she was kept, refusing to see the traitor and risk falling into her spell again. He never wanted to see her again.)

_Not her shining eyes, not her brilliant mind. Not her smile. Not her command over magic…_

Focus.

Griffin was a traitor. A spy. She refused to answer his mothers’ questions, refused to give up her _Company of Light_.

Even magicless and blind she was a menace. She’d nearly managed to escape at least a dozen times, not to mention she’d freed a former fairy warrior from Ithica.

His mothers were outraged, ready to put the witch out of her misery. The only question was how?

“Now to the business at hand… What should we do about Griffin Sylvane?” Belladonna spoke, voice raised. “Her death needs to make a statement to Oritel and Marion, a reminder of what happens when you try to play us.”

“The nastier the better.” Tharma growled. “And keep in mind this a witch who’s survived months of our… Hospitality. We want this to hurt as much as possible.”

“Give us your worst.” Lysslis chuckled, leaning back. “We want to hear all of your suggestions.”

Valtor raised his head, watching with interest as a few of his covenmates began to throw out their ideas.

Burning her alive? (Been there, done that.)

Drowning? Hanging?

Waterboarding? (Same as drowning, no.)

Beheading and send the head to royal family of Domino?

Slow acting poison?

Literally beating her to death?

Having her end her own life?

Make her see one of her own ‘friends’ kill her?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor frowned. None of the ideas presented were horrid enough. (Or painful enough. Nothing to equal what she did.)

_What if…?_

He felt himself smiling, an idea forming in his head. One that would give him exactly what he wanted; revenge and her. _She’d betrayed him most. She’d been his partner, the one he’d have taken a bond with… Only fitting he got to have her._

Valtor walked over to his mothers, watching as everyone else started to file out to find new ideas for how to get rid of their spy problem. “Finally deciding to give us your idea on the matter?” Belladonna snipped, cold yellow eyes daring him to speak.

“What if I took her and broke her?”

All three of his mothers cackled.

“Boy, what makes you think you can do what we haven’t been able to?” Tharma asked, lightning crackling around her.

Valtor took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “I worked with her, closely. She may have been a spy, but there are things, personal things, she let slip out. She has _emotional_ attachments, things that can be used against her to get what we want.”

Lysslis raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her face. “Is this about what _we_ want or about what _you_ want?”

He shook his head, giving a snort. “If you’re insinuating that I _feel_ something for the wretch, you’re gravely mistaken, Mother Lysslis.”

“Oh, but I’m not.” Lysslis stood, looking him over. “You did work _oh so closely_ with her, it’s only natural you’d have felt something. It wouldn’t be the first time either… I do recall an Allison…”

Valtor fought to keep from reacting to her name. Allison was a mistake. One he’d paid dearly for. (He still saw her lifeless eyes from time to time in his nightmares, her mouth still forming the question. “Why?”)

“She was supposed to be my blood bond.”

Silence. A solid claim to the witch, not even one they could dispute.

“Give us an hour to think it over with the other proposals…” Belladonna offered.

“And assuming we give you what you want, you’ll be required to give us any information she may or may not slip to you.” Tharma ordered.

Valtor gave a bow. “Of course… See you within the hour.” He turned on his heels, walking out the door to find Zatura. He was going to need her and her knowledge of all things Griffin.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure it’ll do the job?” Valtor asked, not wanting there to be room for surprises. Zatura grinned, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Valtor, honey, I know what I’m doing. Make her think her beloved older brother is in trouble, and she’ll bow to your whims.” Zatura smirked. “Whatever will you have her do all that time on her knees?”

Valtor rolled his eyes. “Zatura. Not. The. Point.”

“Sure it’s not.” Zatura cackled. “After all, it’s not like she rejected you or refused all your advances. Oh no… None of that is a factor in this little game of revenge.”

“She’s a spy and a traitor who needs to be taught a lesson.”

“And what a lesson you’ll teach her.” Zatura smirked. “The Aphrodite’s Trust will take a few hours to brew… Good with you?”

“Absolutely.” Valtor took a breath. “And the potion… How long will it’s effects last?”

“Give or take? A few hours. Poor thing won’t be able to feel _satisfied_ until you allow it.” Zatura chuckled. “Absolutely horrible.”

Valtor snorted. “It’s just a start, Zatura. And if she gives us what we want, she’ll never have to drink the potion."

She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh come off it, Valtor. You know damn well you want her to take the potion. You know you want her writhing and begging for you.” She gave a teasing tap to his cheek. “No judgments, of course… Just be careful not to get yourself tricked into believing it’ll be anything other than what it is.”

“And what will it be, Zatura?”

“Something you can’t take back.” Zatura grabbed her bag, giving a wink. “See you later, Valtor. And who knows, maybe you’ll get what you want out of this.”


	2. Decisions

**Decisions**

The shower was nice after having spent the night on the stone cold floors of the Ceremony Room.

He scrubbed himself clean, the memories replaying in his mind.

_How soft she felt despite the scars marring her skin. How beautiful his mark looked on her chest._

_How her breathing hitched just so, turning into a whine when she was close but not wanting to say anything. (How hard she kept from making a sound.)_

_How sweet she tasted despite her mistreatment…_

Oh yes, remembering it all had his cock twitching, needing just a bit of coaxing to be hard. (But that could wait. She wasn’t going anywhere, and he didn’t have to be in a rush this time. This time, he could take his sweet time, perhaps even get her to beg for him.)

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor’d slipped into what he considered his more ‘comfortable clothes’, a simple shirt and shorts. He didn’t have anywhere he needed to be today, no appearances to keep up. (After all, he had a new roommate to break in.)

He walked into his room, taking in the sight before him.

She was wearing one of his button-ups, the longest one he had in a vain attempt to keep herself covered. (Zatura would be up soon, bringing her clothes from her previous room, but the sight before him now? Breathtaking.)

Griffin had fallen asleep on his chair, curled into a ball. He couldn’t help but smile, allowing himself a moment to take it in.

To pretend.

(It would have been so easy for this to be different. That her exhaustion had nothing to do with the potion he’d slipped her the night before, that her wearing his clothes was something she did because she _wanted_ too.)

He walked over, carefully pushing a few strands out of her face, wanting to see her more clearly.

Tense. She was tense, even in her sleep, even as exhausted as she was. Her eyes were shut tight, brows furrowed. He could feel fear changing into panic. Worry.

(She should be scared. She should be dragon-damned petrified. After all the hell she’d put them through, after the games she played! She was due for panic.)

He looked her from over, trying to decide what would be best for him.

He could let her rest, let the potion finish draining out of her system. It’d give her more energy to devote to attempting to appease him, to prevent him from hurting her “brother”.

Or he could wake her up, take her again. (Properly this time, on the bed.)

Decisions, decisions…


	3. His Personal Witch

**His Personal Witch**

She was going to lose her dragon-damned mind.

A full week under his thumb; the bastard watching her every move. Using her as some sort of stress relief. (Every time she thought she’d have a moment to breathe, there he was, holding her down and forcing himself inside of her. Groping her.)

There wasn’t enough soap or water in the shower to get rid of those invisible marks in her skin, the ‘brands’ he put on her every time he had his way.

Griffin wanted to jump from his window every night. She wanted to die, wanted to get away from him and the rest of Obsidian and its horrors.

But she couldn’t. She was tied to the castle until her brother was safe. She’d willingly traded her life for his. And she couldn’t take that back.

Even if it meant being forced to share a bed with the devil, even if meant betraying herself over and over again.

She’d caught a reprieve today; Valtor had left long before she got up, gone on some mission or training exercise. (Griffin couldn’t help but pray he’d end up dead, that she’d be killed or released, not wanting to deal with him anymore.)

Her ‘meal’ had been delivered. (It wasn’t poisoned. She knew that. But the fact remained, it kept her alive.)

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Griffin walked the room, looking for anything that could be used to help her escape. But it was useless.

She didn’t have her magic. She could barely see. And she was trapped by a binding spell. Couldn’t leave without a damn escort.

He was “kind enough” to leave her books to read and her own clothes. (Though he was smug the first night, seeing her in _his_ clothes. As if she’d wanted to wear anything binding her to him.)

Griffin growled, tossing a few of his spellbooks and notebooks around. She’d pay for it later, she knew she would, but right now, she couldn’t bring it in her to care. There was only one thing she cared about now.

Salvador. Her brother. That’s all that mattered.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor came in, eyeing the room. “And you always said _I_ needed anger management.” He sounded amused, glancing over to where she was sitting in the corner. A single movement of his hand, and the room and desk were set back to how he’d left it.

She glowered, keeping her distance. Bastard. Rubbing it in that he still had his magic. That he was in control here.

Griffin’s hair on the back of her neck stood up as he began walking toward her, yanking her up by her hair. She groaned, wincing as he tugged her up and to her feet. “You know, I’d love for you to start greeting me at the door. It’d make things so much easier.” His lips found hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

Her hands balled into fists, going to hit him, trying to force him to let her go. His free hand wrapped around her waist, forcing her close to him, forcing her to feel him against her.

A soft moan escaped his lips when he let her go, eyes already darkening. “I don’t know why you’d want to deny yourself… I can feel your want just below the surface… Wouldn’t it be better to just give in?”

His grip on her had loosened and she took her chance, yanking herself away from him completely. “The only thing I want is for you to leave me the hell alone.”

Valtor gave a laugh, his body leaning against his wardrobe. “Griffin… I own you.” She could hear his footsteps, a slight yelp escaping her lips when he shoved onto the bed, pinning her. “I. Own. You.”

She could die. The way his eyes were looking her over, undressing her with his eyes before he’d do so with his hands. “Although…” He moved off of her, sitting on the bed and looking down at where she lay.

She didn’t dare move. It wouldn’t do her any good. He had his magic and at least a hundred pounds on her. _Useless._

“Is there something else you want? Something I could do for you? It’s only fair, you have _given_ me so much…” That tone… Oh she could kill him for using that patronizing tone.

But…

Griffin rose up, looking him in the eyes. “I want to see my brother.” She glowered. “I want to make sure you’re holding up your end of the bargain.”

Valtor smirked, pulling her to him, his hand cupping her face. A finger trailed her lips. (She wanted to bite it. Thought about biting it.)

“And I can make it happen. I can take you to see him in the dungeons, right now.” He paused, his lips curling into that smile.

“And I would, if you hadn’t made such a mess of my room.” That smile stayed; he was planning something.

She felt her blood run cold. (Fuck. What was he planning?)

“But I might could overlook your temper tantrum... It’ll cost you, though.” And there it was. Anger flooded her system as she shoved him away, moving to stand up.

“How dare you! What else you could you possibly want from me that you haven’t already taken?!” She growled, wrapping her arms around herself. “Haven’t you taken enough?”

Valtor shrugged, sitting up a little straighter. “You want to see your brother, you’ll have to pay the toll, so to speak.” He was staring her down, that smug smile on his face.

“I’m generous, Griffin. I’ll walk you down to the dungeons right now, but I _am_ going to ask for something in return.”

Her mind raced. She wanted, no _needed_ , to see her brother. To make sure he was fine. That he was okay. Safe.

That she hadn’t taken this… Deal in vain.

“What do you want from me?” She found herself asking, trying not to make her voice waver. Trying to hide her disgust in herself. In him.

He moved his legs, spreading them out and motioning her toward him. “I want you on your knees.”

Oh, she was going to be sick. He wanted her to…

“I’m generous, but not patient, Griffin. This offer is limited time only.” He used _that_ voice, where he was just barely containing his anger with her.

She took a deep breath, swallowing. (This was for Salvador. She needed to see her brother. That’s all. She needed to see her brother.)

Griffin walked over to him, sinking to her knees in front of him. One of his hands cupped her face, tilting her chin up. A thumb stroking her lips. “Good girl. I knew you’d make the _right_ decision.”

She fought to keep her face neutral. He would not get in her head, he would not get into her thoughts.

Instead she moved his hand, allowing herself to scoot closer so she could undo his pants button and zipper, moving back just enough to let them and his underwear fall. The only good thing about this was that Valtor was already hard, she didn’t have as much work to do.

Teasing touches first. Hands over his thighs, going up tease up and down his cock. (She never thought she’d be thankful for her time with Saladin, but now? She’d praise the dragons. At least _she_ wanted _him_ too.)

He gave a soft groan, placated, just enough.

(She knew she couldn’t put it off though, she’d have to take him in.)

Tentative kiss to the tip and over his length and back. Her mouth opened, taking his tip into her mouth.

_Breathe. Don’t react. Just get it over with._

Griffin let her tongue do the work, making sure to tease his tip before taking a bit more in. Then repeat. Tease with her tongue, take a little more.

She tried to drown out the noise around her, his groans and moans that, if he’d been anyone else, if he’d been someone she actually gave a damn about, would have her moaning too.

Griffin had a rhythm set up, doing her best to keep him placated, not to give him any reason to withhold a visit from her brother.

He moaned, a hand threading into her hair, holding her in place as he started to thrust. She wanted to cry, to curl into a ball.

But she couldn’t, she had to let it happen.

She let him force himself into her mouth, let him use her, and let him tug her hair. “I wonder… What your Company of Light would think if they could see you now.” He taunted, voice laden with lust.

Griffin wanted to kill him for bringing them up, but ended up nearly choked as he forced himself further down her throat.

Tears pricked at her eyes. (Fuck she was not going to cry now.)

He came. Forced her to swallow it down. (Salt and tang and not what she wanted.) She pulled away, coughing and wiping at her mouth while the bastard sat there, smug and satisfied.

“I should have had you do that the first night… If I’d known how good your mouth was…” Did he really think she’d take that as a _compliment_?

Griffin glowered, raising to her feet. “Can we please go see my brother now?” He laughed, putting himself back together, as if nothing had happened.

A flick of the wrist and she felt a chain on her arm, the chain connecting to Valtor’s wrist. “Ready to go?”

“You’ve got to be kidding?” She growled, raising her arm as best as she could. “You expect me to walk out wearing this?”

Valtor cupped her face. “Dear Heart, you don’t have a choice. I don’t trust you to not try and run away. So this is my reassurance.” He kissed her, pulling away for a moment. “Now, let’s go see naïve Salvador.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Griffin ignored the looks her “former covenmates” gave her as they walked down the stairs and all around the hallways.

The scoffs from the others. (Not like she could do anything about it. Her magic was gone and she was chained to a sociopath.)

“Nice toy, Valtor. You wouldn’t happen to be willing to share, would you?” Ogron stopped them, and she could feel him eyeing her.

Valtor growled, forcing Griffin closer to him, and wrapping his arm around her. “You have your toys, Ogron. I have mine.” (One good thing. He was too possessive to share her.)

The red headed wizard snorted. “When you change your mind, you know where my room is…” He eyed Griffin once more. “Maybe have her wearing less. I tend to tear clothes.”

Valtor just tugged her forward. “Let’s go.”

Forward. Deeper.

Into the dungeons of Obsidian. She knew that chill anywhere. The feelings of despair and depression.

The place she’d called home for months.

“Griffin?!” A familiar voice called out to her. Salvador. She moved fast, getting in front of his cell door.

It was hard to tell, but he seemed to look okay. Just a little scuffed up. “You said he’d be okay.” Griffin turned to Valtor. The wizard shrugged.

“I said he was going to be okay after we made our deal. Whatever happened before the deal isn’t my problem.”

“What deal?” Salvador had that tone in his voice. “Griffin? You okay?”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. I’m fine.” A lie. She wanted to disappear, but she couldn’t. Not right now. Not while her brother needed her.

“Are they treating you well?” Griffin asked, changing the subject.

“I guess… If you count being stuck in some dungeon being treated well.” He seemed to look passed her. “And the room service sucks, by the way.” He told Valtor. (That was Salvador, always joking, even when he shouldn’t.)

Valtor shook his head. “Again, not my department. But I did promise your sister you’d be treated better than she was. And you have been.” He looked to Griffin. “Five minutes.”

She looked to her brother, having him catch her up as best as he could. (Anything to feel normal for just a moment.)

Amelia had died. Saladin was spiraling. Faragonda was okay. Hagen was missing. Magnethia had started researching some sort celestial beings.

All was well… Normal. Fine.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was gentler with her that night, slow thrusts and lingering kisses. She wanted to shove him away, her lips sore from biting back the moans. (Of course, he’d be one of the few men who knew what he was doing. One of the few determined to wring out orgasm after orgasm. Even when she didn’t want it. When she didn’t want him.)

But she kept her fighting to a minimal. He’d let her see her brother, he’d given her the one thing she wanted most, so she’d take it. (Tonight. Tomorrow she’d start fighting again. She knew which cell he was at, she knew where to go to save him. It was only a matter of time before an opportunity presented itself.)


	4. Unanswered Pleas

**Unanswered Pleas**

Griffin was on the bed, enjoying her rare moments of peace and quiet as she read one of the few books she’d had access too.

“ _Nights on Temal_ ”. Not the worst read, but not the best either. But it was better than driving herself crazy trying to find a way out.

(She’d already succeeded in figuring out where exactly her brother was located. That was half the battle. The other half was figuring out schedules. If she could get that planned out…)

_Slam._

The witch nearly jumped out of her skin as the door slammed open, her body immediately tensing, holding her breath.

He was in a mood, she could feel that even without her magic. Anger just radiated from him as he stormed passed the bed and toward the bathroom, the shower starting up.

_Dammit this was going to be a bad day. He was pissed, and she’d have to take the brunt of it._

She kept her mouth shut, her breathing steady, listening for signs to indicate just _how_ bad the rest of the day was going to be for her.

Long shower… (For him when he didn’t have her in there… That wasn’t good.)

Stifled groans. (He’d been injured… Maybe he’d leave her be… At least until he healed.)

The rattle of bottles as something hard hit the wall. (Nope. She was fucked. In the worst possible way.)

Griffin bit her lip, weighing her options. She could go ahead and undress, try to make it a little easier on herself. (She wasn’t healed properly from the other day, when he’d used a knife handle to…)

She shook her head, her body shuddering. If she complied too quickly, he’d be angry. He’d accuse her of trying to get inside his head again. Of trying to manipulate him just like _they_ did.

If she fought him, he’d remind her just how futile it was. That he’d get what he’d wanted anyway. That she was wasting her precious strength trying to stop the inevitable.

(She should have been faster that night… She should have been long gone, back on Rancor or hidden at the Fortress. She should have ignored Valtor’s taunts and just kept walking.)

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It didn’t take long.

He had gotten out of the shower and had dried off, forgone clothing, and made his way into the room.

Griffin tried to keep her breathing steady, eyes darting to his face to check his mood. He was still angry at something, about something. And she could vaguely see bandages on his shoulder.

“Your friend Hagen tried to amputate my arm today. Any ideas why?” His voice was teetering on the edge of pissed and amused. A dangerous place for him to be.

Griffin bit her tongue. If she took the bait, he’d lunge. If she didn’t…

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to speak.” He moved toward her, managing to pin her down and toss the book aside before she could even protest.

A hand was wrapped around her throat, his thumb digging into that pressure point just under her jaw. Her hands went and wrapped around his, trying to pry it loose, her legs uselessly trying to push him away.

Valtor shook his head, his brows furrowed and a scowl on his face. “You’d be so thrilled, wouldn’t you? For me to have lost a limb? My life?” He pressed harder, his flames igniting just below his skin. She gasped in pain, her mouth opening in an attempt to get more air.

She struggled, gasped, trying to get him off of her. But he pressed her down by the throat, his free hand rucking up her dress. Teasing strokes on her stomach a jarring difference from the hand roughly squeezing the life out of her.

And finally, as if a switch had flipped, he’d released her. The witch pulled herself into a ball, gasping for air, holding herself.

Tears were streaming down her face; she wiped at them, trying to make them stop. But she couldn’t. (Great. Crying and gasping for air. A great way to end the month from hell.)

He was quiet, unusually so. She chanced a glance to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze studying her. His body language had changed, as if he’d caved in on himself.

“It didn’t have to be this way.” His last words before he stood, his magic dressing him just before he walked back out the door.

She felt herself collapse on the bed as soon as the door shut, relief flooding her system. She was safe from his fury… For now. For now she could rest.

One of her hands traced around her neck, wincing at how sore it was. (She was definitely going to have bruises… Angry ones. And burns… Light burns.)

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Griffin tensed when she woke up, the feeling of someone’s hand threading in her hair creating a sense of confusion. (She loved having her hair played with, but the only person who was allowed in the room was Valtor… And she knew to be more terrified of him when he was _kind_ than cruel.)

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper earlier…” His words were hollow, meaningless. (Even if he could make himself sound like he meant it.) “I could have hurt you beyond repair…” His hand trailed down from her hair to her neck.

Her body tensed further, waiting for him to choke her again. But instead she found herself more confused when a bright light came over her neck. The soreness was gone, he’d healed her.

It was so jarring, how vastly different he was from earlier to now… It was strange. Even for him. Unless…?

Oh fuck no.

She bolted up, moving away from him, glowering. “You don’t get to do this!” He tilted his head, a bemused smile on his face.

“I don’t get to do what, exactly my dear?”

“You don’t get to nearly kill me one moment and then come back and try to heal me and tell me you’re sorry! Because you’re not! And you know you’re not!” She growled.

“It’s an insult to both of us to try and pretend this is anything more than what it is.” Griffin felt her voice waver, still somewhat sore despite the healing attempt. “You don’t get to act like we’re… Together.”

“In a manner we are entangled to one another. If you disregard the details around our… Circumstances here… We are together.” Valtor smirked, moving closer to her. “In fact, depending on the realm, we’d be considered married.”

“Then I want a divorce.” She snipped, sitting up straighter. (Trying to be bigger, scarier. More imposing.)

Valtor laughed. “I bet you do. Unfortunately, I’m quite happy with our current arrangement.” He grabbed her wrists, forcing her closer to him, pulling her into his lap. “And I have this feeling… That by the time I’m done with you, you’ll find you’ll be happy with it too.”

Griffin tried to push him away. “I think I liked you better when you were trying to kill me.”

“You say that now… But you’ll change your mind.” He moved them, pushing her to her back.

Weighted. She felt like she was being weighed down despite Valtor having already moved off of her.

Fuck.

“What the hell?”

“A new spell I picked up today. You can thank, Hagen if you ever see him again.” Griffin tensed again, feeling Valtor trail a hand over her nightdress. “You’re lucky I love this shade of red on you… Or this thing would be burned…”

As if it were nothing, the dress disappeared. (Probably back in her drawer. He was meticulous about things being in their proper place. Almost as much as she was.)

“Much better…” A purr. Great. At least _he_ was going to get to enjoy himself. “Don’t worry… You know I love fair play.” He crooned, as if reading her mind.

His hand started trailing down her bare skin, teasingly stroking around her panties and thighs. “You can hate me all you want, but your body likes me.” Smug.

She wanted to deny it. She did.

But how could she? She knew she was wet, she could feel the heat starting to pool downward. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from moaning when his fingers finally slipped her panties off and slid into her.

It was unfair how well he seemed to know her body. Unfair how he knew just how fast to stroke her clit, just where to curl his fingers inside of her to make her toes curl.

(Hell, if he hadn’t spelled her, her hips would be trying to stay in rhythm with his fingers.)

“I’ll never understand why you fight me so hard on this… I can see it in your eyes how much you _want_ to enjoy this. I can feel it in how your body clenches around mine.” He pulled his fingers out, and she choked down the whine when he presented them to her. “Your body enjoys itself. Why fight it?”

Griffin managed to find the strength to glare, her hands balling into fists. “Because I don’t want this. And I don’t want you.”

The wizard moved up a bit, his fingers re-entering her as kissed her. Tongue forced into her mouth, mimicking the way his fingers were tormenting her.

Close. Dammit she was so close.

And he pulled away, chuckling a bit as her body attempted to follow, the spell making it hard for her to move. “I’m pretty sure you want this more than you’re letting on.” He gave a wink, moving her legs to wrap around him.

She couldn’t stop the moan when he entered her, and he didn’t even attempt to stop his groan. “It’s okay, Griffin. You don’t have to admit anything yet… Your body’ll do all the talking.” He taunted, his hips beginning their thrusts.

Damn him. She couldn’t hide her face this way, and he wasn’t letting up to let her hide her gasps. (Of course he’d know just how to angle himself so he’d graze her clit each time. Of course he would.)

It was embarrassing and downright cruel how fast her body turned against her, how quickly she came around him.

She hated him. She hated him for making her feel this way, for manipulating her body. She hated his taunts throughout the night, the things he’d hurl her way each time she tried to protest.

_“But you’re still so wet. It’d be rude to leave you so unsatisfied.”_

_“You can claim you hate this all you want. You’ve came three times… Tell me, how can you_ hate _that?”_

 _“Your legs are practically shaking. You’ve nearly screamed twice. But it’s okay. You’ll admit it soon enough. In fact, I’m sure you’ll be begging for it one day._ ”

She could kill him…

But she couldn’t. Not while Salvador was still on the line. (She could pray. Pray to whatever deity was listening to get her and her brother out of this mess. To take away this nightmare.)


	5. Idle Hands

**Idle Hands**

Valtor kept a steady pace as he made his way up the stairs, his mothers’ words echoing in his mind.

 _“The Ring of Solaria can be used to channel the Light Dragon’s Fire, Valtor. You need to bring it to us. Help us harness its power._ ” Over and over.

And he didn’t need to be reminded of what would happen if he failed them. He still had frostbite scars from last week when he’d been unable to kill Hagen and his little elf friend.

The Ring of Solaria… He could get it, trinkets were easy to steal. Usually.

But this… This would take skill and time. Especially since Luna and Radius never seemed to part with it. One of them always wielded the ring and the scepter it turned in to, powering up their own magic.

He slight smirk formed against his lips. Griffin.

She’d tell him anything he wanted her to, so long as her precious brother was safe and sound in his cell. (Not that she needed to know the Salvador she’s been occasionally speaking with was one of Darkar’s shadow creatures in disguise…)

He’d made it to his door, opening it and walking in, head high.

She was at his desk, legs tucked underneath her, a book in hand. (Always with a book in hand.)

Seemed she’d thought today would be easy on her, the witch wearing one of her sweaters and a pair of jeans. “I can feel you staring and it’s starting to become concerning.” She quipped, not even looking up from her book.

He couldn’t help but smile at that. She still had that fire in her soul, pushing it into phrases of anger and pain or into passive-aggressive taunts. (She couldn’t very well take him like she used to, not with her magic drained.)

“I’m trying to figure out how best to approach you on a… Delicate subject matter.” He moved to sit at his armchair near the bookcase, making sure to keep his eyes on her.

She frowned, setting the book down and looking toward his direction. Amber eyes tried to hold his gaze, but they were so unfocused. (He should get her new glasses eventually… But he so loved having her rely on him when they were about…)

“You want _my help_? That’s rich.” She growled.

“I do… In a manner of speaking. You see, you know Luna and Radius rather well… Which means you know where’d they stash the Ring of Solaria when they weren’t using it.”

“And you think I’m going to tell you that?” Griffin scoffed, crossing her arms. “You honestly think I’d betray them now?”

Valtor shrugged. “It may be in your best interest to cooperate with me, Griffin.” She could argue all she wanted; he was getting that information. Even if it meant having to invade her mind the way he invaded her body and her space. (He never wanted to do that to her, hating how it felt when Lysslis did it to him.)

(But what should he care? It’d do her good to be reminded why she should fear him, that she’d picked the wrong side.)

Griffin glowered. “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t exactly care about my own interest anymore.”

True. He’d caught her looking out his window more than once, fingers fidgeting with the lock, as if she’d open the window and jump.

(He couldn’t have that. She hadn’t suffered nearly enough.)

(He didn’t want to sleep alone again.)

“Let me rephrase then,” Valtor stood up, moving over to where she was sitting, placing his hands on her shoulder. She tensed at his touch, breathing already hitching. Fear sinking in. “Your brother’s best interest relies on your cooperation, Griffin. Or do I need to remind you of that?”

She pulled away from him, arms wrapping around herself. “You don’t have to keep reminding me, I know.” Her voice seemed to waver, her eyes darting around.

This would be good. She was plotting something, thinking of a bargain.

(She always did know the way to his heart, even if she never used it properly.)

“I want to know about Luna and Radius’ ring, Griffin.”

Tears seemed to prick at her eyes. (Hell no, she didn’t get to cry right now. She’d put herself in this predicament. He wasn’t the villain here. He was merely showing a spy and a traitor what happens when you cross the wrong people.)

“What… Would it take for you to forget about the ring and my brother? If just for today?” Griffin asked, her voice soft and cracking. Scared of what he’d have her do, of how he’d make her debase herself this time.

He did so love quid pro quo…

But what could he have of her that he didn’t already have? That hadn’t been taken?

An idea hit him, one of her showing him just _how_ she enjoyed being touched. An ultimate betrayal of herself. But he’d have a little fun first… He needed to get under her skin.

“Are you propositioning me, Griffin?” He let a bit of a scandalized tone into his voice, a hand over his heart. “How _interesting_.”

She scowled, her demeanor changed, anger overcoming the fear. “I’m asking you to consider an offer.”

“Do you have any idea what my mothers will do to me if I don’t get that ring?” Valtor asked, undoing his shirt to let her see the frostbite and electrical burns.

He saw how she recoiled, the bit of empathy in her eyes. (How… Touching. She’d always shown him concern. Even if it wasn’t coming from the same place he thought it was coming from.)

“Valtor… I get it. But I’m not going to betray the Company. My being here is proof enough of that.”

“Right.” Valtor shook his head, rolling his eyes. “You’ll protect the people who literally gave you over to the wolves and left you to perish. You’ll _protect_ the people who don’t give a damn about you, who don’t care enough to come and even attempt to rescue you.”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “But you’ll sacrifice the ones who actually stood by your side. You’ll _sacrifice_ those of us who _have_ came and rescued you before. But you’ll protect those damn self-righteous pixies and their hero-wannabes!”

(He and Darkar had come to save her before. She and Mandragora were taken by Witch Hunters on Zenith, going to be sent to one of the Council’s dark magic camps. _They’d_ saved her. And yet she protects the Company.)

Griffin bit her lip, tears in her eyes. She tried to stand straight and tall, tried to keep her standing with him. “I’ll sacrifice myself to protect the rest of Magical Dimension and the balance of things. I’ll sacrifice myself to protect my brother. But I can’t… I can’t sacrifice myself for you anymore than what I’ve been doing.”

“I’ve given you my offer. Take it or leave it.” She swallowed, giving him a look. “What would I have to do to keep you from going after the Solarian Ring and my brother?”

Valtor looked her over, allowing a smile to come to his lips. “I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”

She seemed frozen, her eyes widening as she realized what he was asking. He thought she’d argue with him, try to weasel herself out, maybe reconsider betraying Luna and her husband.

But she surprised him.

Griffin gave a deep breath, her eyes looking down, as if she’d accepted her fate. “Bed or one of the chairs? And just… How clothed am I allowed to be?”

She was actually just going to go with his suggestion, no arguments. She _asked_ him for his preference on the matter. (She was learning so fast… Damn it went straight to-)

“I’d rather you lay out on the bed. Be nice and comfortable.” A slight taunt. He knew she’d never be _comfortable_ sharing herself with him like that. Not without a potion or spell drugging her system.

(Such a shame it had to be this way…)

“And no clothing. I don’t want an obstructed view.” He let himself smirk, moving forward to hold her chin, making her look up into his eyes. “After all, this is a learning experience for me. I want to know just what I should do the next time I want to hear you _beg_ for me.”

Now that was a thought, one that had his pants already feeling tighter than they should be. But it wasn’t of consequence to him, he’d get his pleasure after. (It had been a few days since he’d had her mouth, and on a day like today, she wouldn’t protest too much…)

Griffin walked toward the bed, already starting to undress.

She was so beautiful, even with the scars. (He couldn’t help but admire her, how even with his covenmates intention to kill her, she persevered.)

He took a seat at his desk, pulling up his chair so he could watch.

Griffin tensed a bit, taking notice of him being there close to her. But another breath and she was on the bed, laying spread out.

He watched as she closed her eyes, like she was trying to find a place to send herself. (Most likely away from him and his prying eyes, as if wishing him away would work.)

Her hands started at her hair, because of course she would start there, little tugs on her purple strands. Fingers threading in the silk tresses. Soft gasps escaping her lips.

Fingers slid down her scalp to her neck, teasing at her pulse points, soft teasing touches. (Damn he wanted to lick and tease at her neck, to pull her hair and hear that strangled moan.)

But he was good, he kept his hands to himself and watched her work herself.

Her fingers traced down to her breasts, teasing around the edges of them, not quite touching them yet. (He’d already have his mouth on one and his hand massaging the other. Soft and slow was the way to go if he wanted to get her it seemed.)

They started going more inward, toward her nipples. Teasing at her nipples, fingers tweaking them here and there. Her gasps and low moans going straight to his cock. He was entranced, watching her fingers and hands grope and tease at her breasts.

Her hips and legs had already started moving on their own, as if trying to find friction already. Desperate.

One of her hands started trailing downward, teasing around her stomach and midriff, not quite ready to go for it yet.

Her fingers teased at her dark curls, rubbing up and down at her slit. Her other hand started groping and massaging more into her breast. (He wasn’t sure which he wanted to watch more intently, the fingers at her slit or the ones at her breast.)

A whine escaped her lips, the fingers at her slit starting to enter in. Teasing at her folds, taunting at her clit while her hips rolled upward.

Damn she was perfect, face flushed and eyes shut tightly, her moans barely contained as she started bearing down more on her clit, going in small circles around it. How her fingers teased about going lower and lower.

And into her. They had entered her and were doing teasing thrusts. Her hips meeting them over and over.

Wet. She was so wet…

And she came, a low moan escaping her lips, her legs falling open, her hands stilling. (Not wanting to overstimulate herself. Good… Such perfect information.)

She was panting, trying to catch her breath, her eyes still shut.

A perfect opportunity.

His clothes found themselves gone, his magic peeling them off as he joined the witch on the bed.

She let out a yelp, shocked and dazed as he pinned her down, his tongue entering her. She moaned, unable to hold back after her first orgasm.

He teased at her clit, licking and sucking and holding her thighs still and open.

She cried out, another orgasm hitting her. Valtor couldn’t help but chuckle, kissing her thighs as she calmed down, her panting slowing.

“A little fair play is in order, Griffin. You’ve come twice now…” He teased, kissing up her body, his thumb teasing over her lips.

Griffin somehow managed to glare, even with her eyes still dark and her face still flushed. But she didn’t argue, instead she raised up, moving herself down his body.

He couldn’t stop the moan from escaping when her lips wrapped around him, her tongue teasing at his tip. “If only your Company of Light knew just how far you were willing to go for them…”

Valtor watched her bob her head, her jaw slacking and tongue teasing. She wasn’t going to take the bait, but he could see how it affected her, the tears in her eyes. (If only they _could_ see what she’d do for them. Wretches didn’t even deserve this sort of devotion.)

He shook his head, threading his hands in her hair, urging her to go faster and deeper. Less teasing. (Her show had been more than enough foreplay. More than enough.)

He held her in place, giving a moan as he came, watching as she forced herself to swallow. Griffin moved off him the instant she could, wiping at her mouth and coughing. (He’d almost feel bad for her. Almost.)


	6. You've Got To Lose Your Inhibitions

**You’ve Got To Lose Your Inhibition**

He couldn’t help but smile, raising up a bit just to watch her sleep. It was rare he woke before her, even rarer that she was sleeping somewhat soundly.

Purple hair draped like a blanket over her skin, scars and marks on display. (Some from him, some from others.)

Valtor hummed, torn between lettering her sleep and waking her up. (He was going to wake her up. He couldn’t let this beautiful morning go to waste.)

He leaned over her, pulling her body close to his as he pressed kisses down her neck, to her shoulder. His hands pulling her hair away from her skin, pressing more and more kisses to her.

Griffin stirred, half-dazed from sleep still. “What? What do you want?”

“What I always want this early in the morning.” He kissed her neck, nipping at her throat. His hand started to trail down her body, searching downward, teasing at her curls and toward her slit.

A hand grabbed his wrist, half-bitten nails digging into his skin. “I don’t want you to fucking touch me.” She growled out, moving away from him.

Valtor rolled his eyes. “Are we still going to do this song and dance, Griffin? You protest, you fight me, but in the end? I own you and I take what I want. So tell me, am I going to have to use force?” He grabbed her by her hair, pulling her back to him.

A groan escaped her lips, from pain or pleasure he couldn’t tell. “Let me go.” She tried to shove him away. “I’m through.”

Valtor snorted, about to argue with her. She didn’t want him touching her. (She didn’t want him touching her. He could play that game.)

“Fine. I won’t touch you, but before the day is over, you’ll be begging me to.” Valtor raised his hand, his magic sneaking into her body, into her pleasure centers.

Griffin swore, moving off the bed, taking the sheet with her in some sort of attempt to cover herself. She seemed normal enough, but he knew it’d change in a matter of minutes. “What did you do?”

Valtor winked. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He got out of bed, his magic getting him dressed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a job to do. Zatura’ll bring your breakfast up. Remember, if you starve, so does Salvador.”

And with that, he left the room, a bit of a pep in his step. The sooner he finished up his mission, the sooner he could get back and see what sort of havoc his spell wrought on Griffin.

(He could picture her now, trying desperately to make herself come, but to no relief. Not until he gives her permission.)

He was going to have so much fun with her when he got back. It was almost enough to make working with Ogron and his wizards bearable.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor waited just outside his bedroom door, letting his magic get a feel for her first. Desperation, panic, arousal. All swirling inside of her.

He smirked, taking the next step of walking into his room, the door locking behind him. Damn if he could imbed this image in his mind forever. The witch had propped herself against his desk, her skin flushed and shiny with sweat, eyes glazed over. Clothes half-hazardly thrown on the floor, fingers working themselves in and out.

“I take it you’ve had a fun day.” He teased, unabashedly looking her over. Her eyes opened, her face trying to force itself into a glare.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Oh this?” He asked, feigning like he was going to touch her, chuckling when she tried to lean in and huffed when he moved away. “This is a spell variant of the Aphrodite’s Trust potion. You’d be amazed at the side-effects… Including one little detail that the sufferer-in this case, you- can’t get off without help from the caster- in this case, me.”

Griffin swore, forcing her hands away from herself. She must have been gone on the spell for a bit, the way her thighs seemed so drenched. “Why would you do this?”

“You said you didn’t want me to touch you, so I gave you a reason to see why that’s wrong.” Valtor smirked, sitting down in his arm chair. “I own you, Griffin. My brand is on your chest, my magic is… Well it’s not really torture if you’re enjoying yourself, is it?” He leaned back, watching the show.

She was so jittery, trying so hard to keep her hands from touching herself. (At least she’s learned it only makes things worse to drive herself to the edge, especially when there’s no way she can get off of it.)

“I’d be more than happy to help you out, Griffin. But it would require my touch and you were so repulsed by that this morning.” He taunted. “I can’t blame you though. I’m sure it would be humiliating if your friends at the Company knew how fast you went to your knees for me. You do need to save face.”

Griffin swore, one hand already finding its way back to her breast. “Make it stop. There is no way I can…” She gave a low moan, her knees buckling. Oh, this was a sight.

“I wonder what your friends would think if they could see you now? No more in control of yourself than a common whore.” She was far prettier than one though, he’d give her that.

The witch bit her lip, her other hand trying to hold her up on the desk. He could see the argument in her eyes, could see the wheels turning as she tried to find a way out of her current predicament.

“Well?”

“Please.” Her voice was so soft, so broken. “Please.”

“You’re almost there. Please what?” Valtor asked, shifting in his seat. His pants were already too tight, but he could ignore that now. Griffin was in the midst of breaking herself down.

Her eyes shut tight, as if trying to find the words. “Please touch me.” Valtor grinned, extending his hand.

“In my lap.”

She did as she was told (for once), getting into his lap, her legs splayed open. He decided to have his fun, running one hand over her cheek, reveling in how sensitive she was.

His other hand was wrapped around her waist, holding her in place. His fingers teasing the skin where her hip met her curls. “Valtor, please.”

“What? I am _touching_ you.” He kissed her cheek, chaste. “Isn’t that what you asked?” She was nearly in tears now, something he could cherish.

“Valtor… Please fuck me.”

His fingers found their way inside of her, running along her clit, curling into her walls. She moaned, her head finding rest on his shoulder as he worked her over, soft pleas coming from her lips.

Now for the finishing touch. “It’s okay, Griffin… You can come now.” He murmured, the spell starting to break.

And then he unleashed hell on the witch, pulling his fingers out of her and holding her down while she came without friction or help, the orgasm ruined.

She let out a sob, swearing at him as she struggled against him. “What? Did you really think I was going to let you have what _you_ wanted this time? You did come. I promised you that. I just didn’t say you’d enjoy it.”

He tilted her head up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “You see, Griffin, I trusted you to have my back. I went above and beyond to try and get you into the Inner Circle… And then you turned out to be a spy. Like a slap in the face.”

“I never asked you to do any of that.”

“No. You didn’t.” He conceded. “But I did.” He kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth before pulling away, thrilled when he felt her trying to chase his lips. “And it was for nothing, because I couldn’t rely on you like you had relied on me. And now… Now you’re paying for it.”

Valtor wiped the tears from her eyes, taking in the flushed redness of her face. “Of course… You can always earn back that orgasm. Just don’t fight me.” He pressed her against him, letting himself rut a bit against, letting her feel him.

The witch closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. A concession of power to him. “Good witch. Go lay on the bed, I’ll be there soon.” He kissed the top of her head. “And these,” he brought up her wrists, kissing them both, “are to stay above your head. I will restrain you if I have too.”

She gave a shaky nod. “Fine… I’ll do it.” She raised out of his lap, her legs unsteady as she made her way to bed.

If she kept this up, he’d have her broken in before Yule.


	7. How Dare You?

**How Dare You?**

Griffin was trying to have a decent day, after all, it had started out so well. Valtor was gone before she had awoken.

(He’d had the gall to leave her a little note, as if they were lovers and she’d want to know where he was. A mission of some sort…)

She had a book to keep her mind busy, to let her escape her hell for a moment. She’d had her meal brought in by a shadow creature. It was truly an upgrade from what she was given in the cells… But she still had to force it down.

Had to. Because if she didn’t comply…

No. She couldn’t go there. Not right now. Right now, she had to stay focused. Focused on surviving this hell hole long enough to get Salvador free and out the castle walls. She had to survive that long.

And she would. After all, today was shaping up so well… She needed to milk that while she could.

The witch reclined, trying to find herself escaping more into her book, trying to forget the bedroom she was tethered too, the wizard who had been abusing and raping her for dragons’ knows how long.

A decent day…

Until it went to hell.

Until he walked into the door.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor stumbled into the room, his coat in one hand, the other holding tightly to his ribs. She could somewhat see the Lichtenburg scars streaming down his arms, pulsing as if reactivated.

He looked paler, nearly frail.

 _Dammit_.

Griffin stood up, taking his coat away from his hand and leading him to sit down, rushing toward the en suite bathroom.

She ducked near the sink, eyes straining to read for the first aid kit and the healing potions she knew he kept stashed there.

Grabbing a few of the bottles and the kit, she made her way back to the room. “Shirt off.” A quick and simple command, one he seemed fine with following.

“Funny. I’m usually giving _you_ that order.” He tried to force humor, his face contouring in pain for a moment.

She just rolled her eyes, setting to work. Anti-burn salve first… Then something to prevent infection…

The witch worked carefully, silently cursing Gantlos for the umpteenth time for shattering her glasses. This would all be so much easier if she could _see_ what the hell she was doing without having to get so close.

Valtor winced a time or two when she’d pressed too hard, half-groans escaping his lips as he tried to keep from crying out.

(She knew these had to hurt… Tharma knew exactly where to hurl her lightning bolts to create the most pain. And Lysslis knew just how to make the pain last and last and last.)

Griffin finished up the bandage work, getting to her feet and handing him one of the potion bottles. “If the label’s right, this is supposed to be a pain killer. I suggest you take it and sleep it off.”

She bent to grab the rest of the kit, intending on putting it up. Calloused hands grabbed her wrist, making her stop. “Since when do you care what happens to me?”

He almost sounded smug, almost. But it was too forced to be smug. A real question?

Griffin turned to face him, keeping her face neutral. “I don’t. But you’ve made it perfectly clear that my brother’s survival depends on yours.” She could feel her fingers threatening to fidget.

_She didn’t care about him. She never did. But the abuse the Ancestral Witches put their own soldiers through? Let alone the abuse they dealt out to their prisoners…_

Valtor tilted his head, a slight smile coming to his lips. “You’re lying.” His hand laced in hers, as if pointing out her tell to her.

She yanked her hand away, glowering at him. “The Ancestral Witches should learn how to better take care of their toys. No one should have to suffer at their hands.” She snorted, grabbing up the medical supplies.

“But what do you care? You’re just as cruel as they are.”

That was the wrong thing to say. The witch was pulled fast into his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her, preventing her from moving while he leaned close, whispering into her ear.

“If I were as cruel as they were, Griffin, you wouldn’t be alive.”

“You think _this_ is mercy?” She snapped, trying to pull away. “Keeping me prisoner? Threatening my brother? What part of that is _mercy?_ ”

“You’re alive and well taken care of. I’ve been patient and kind to you.” His grip on her tightened, a kiss pressed to the nape of her neck. “I’ve guarded you, protected you.”

She gave a mirthless laugh. “Protected me? Kept me alive? Been kind?” Griffin couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

This had to be a joke. A way to get under her skin.

But why did he sound so sincere…?

“What part of you raping me, drugging me, and keeping me prisoner has been _kind_?” She felt the venom in her voice, dripping with every word. “What part of you holding me down and forcing yourself into me was about you _protecting_ me?”

“Because I kept _them_ from you.” Valtor’s voice was all-too quiet. All-too sincere. (Broken? Was his voice wavering?) “I kept you away from my mothers.”

“And I admit… I’m _selfish_ when it comes to taking what I want from you. But you should see how incredible you look trying to fight off the pleasure you’re feeling. How distracting you are when you’re lost in those books of yours.”

“Working together, that laser focus you had… I wanted it on me. And how you treated me as an equal instead of… Instead of just _their_ son? I fell so hard… And then you ended up being one of the Company of Light… You broke my heart.”

Griffin swore, finally managing to pull herself away. But she faced him, not daring to turn her back when he was like this. Raw and emotional was never a good combination from him. “I _never_ wanted you to like me! I _never_ asked for you or your feelings.”

“I _never_ wanted this.” She swallowed. “I never asked you to keep me from dying at their hands. I never asked you bring me here.” She growled, her body shaking. “How dare you? How dare you sit there and say you _care_ about me? That _I_ broke your _heart_? How dare you say that when you keep me here and force me into your bed every night?”

Valtor stood up, still somewhat off-balance due to the ‘session’ he must have had earlier. Griffin tensed, preparing for the worst. Preparing for the fallout of his anger.

Instead he grabbed his shirt, put it on, grabbed her hand to kiss, and then left.

Just walked right out the door.

Griffin stayed where she was, her body still shaking and her mind reeling. (Did she really just come out of that argument unscathed?)

No… There’d be repercussions for this… He just wanted time and space to figure out how he’d torture her next.

And she’d be there… Waiting like a lamb for slaughter.


	8. A Golden Opportunity

**A Golden Opportunity**

A week.

She’d had a full week of peace. (Eerie peace; the calm before the storm.)

Valtor came and went, but he seldom acknowledged her aside from swapping out her books and bringing food or supplies.

He was always gone before she woke up, and usually didn’t come in until late. (Assuming he’d come in at all.)

It was obvious there was a change in the wizard, the way he looked longingly at her but kept his distance. Was he trying to prove something? To prove that he did care about her? Or was he trying to get her guard down only to turn it back on her later?

Griffin frowned, tapping on the book cover while her mind raced.

Assuming he was being honest about his feelings… She could use them to get herself and her brother free. She could regain his trust, get him to bring her something she could use to bribe Kerborg. (The shapeshifting spiderbat was always flying around the halls. And always right about noon. She just needed food to bribe the creature, preferably something sweet.)

And then she’d just… Sneak out while Valtor was gone, using Kerborg as her escort. (The spell on the door didn’t say _who_ the escort had to be, just that she had to have one.)

But if Valtor was trying to somehow play her…? Well her plan could still work… They’d just be double-crossing one another. Nothing unusual.

Of course, she’d have to figure out how to regain his trust… Or make him think she was willing to work with him on an amicable level. She couldn’t just give herself to him, that’d be too much too soon. He’d get suspicious…

Maybe there was a way to work up to it though… She just had to swallow her pride and have a little faith. (Not like she had much to begin with, but if she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life as Valtor’s house pet… She’d have to get creative.)

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor walked into the room, his steps tentative as he moved toward his desk. _Show time._

Griffin stood up, walking over to him, her steps shy and her fingers fidgeting over her hands. Dragons she hoped this worked… She hoped she could stomach this and see it through. “Something you want to say, Griffin?” Valtor asked, turning away from the notebook he’d brought out.

“Were you being honest with me…? Last week?” She kept her voice low, nearly whisper quiet.

The wizard huffed, crossing his arms. “Does it matter? You’d never believe me and you’ve made it quite clear how you view the arrangement.” He gave one of those half-smiles. “Granted, I knew you’d never be fond of it, but I figured you’d appreciate living a little longer.”

Griffin cautiously took one of his hands in hers. “I need to know if you were serious or not, Valtor. I _have_ to know.”

“Why? What do you care?”

She bit her lip, her hands letting his go. “I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t… And part of me doesn’t. Part of me think that you were just spewing bullshit to try and get me to sympathize with you…”

“But the truth is, I don’t do sympathy. But I am… Empathic. Even without my magic I can say that I truly understand being in the position you’re in.” She let herself rest against the desk, trying to find the words.

“I didn’t want to get involved in the war. I didn’t want any of this… But Oritel swore… Promised me that he’d speak up… That he’d assist in my research, that’d he help other dark magic users that were being ostracized by the Council…” Griffin felt tears in her eyes, just thinking of others like her who had gotten caught up in this mess.

Countless rounded up from their homes just because of their magic, countless put into exile until the war was over in an attempt to cripple the Ancestral Witches. (Even those who weren’t involved in the war…)

“And I know it’s… A long shot… But I do feel for you, the pressure you’re under. I was under so much scrutiny by the Company… But I complied. I did what I said I’d do… Because my research and proving the Council wrong were so damn important to me…”

“And yet you still protect them?” Valtor questioned, tsking. “Knowing how they feel about you and what you are, you still protect them?”

Griffin gave a bit of a sad smile, making sure she looked him the eyes. “You still defend your mothers despite the abuse they give you… Even you know what they do isn’t right. You don’t harm your soldiers when you want them loyal to you… And you definitely don’t harm your child.”

He cut his gaze away, as if trying to block her out. “Trying to ‘figure me out’ won’t work, Griffin… You should know better.”

“I do know better.” She swore. “I’m just… I’m not trying anything, at least… Nothing horrid. I just… Want an understanding between us. It’s why I asked if you were being honest.”

Valtor stood up and turned to her, trapping her between him and the desk. He cupped her face, bringing her in for a kiss.

It wasn’t forceful, not like he’d normally done. It was slow, full of emotion. (Dammit she was playing with literal fire here… Please, Dragons’ let this work.)

She kissed him back, swallowing her pride and whatever dignity she may have had stashed away, her hands holding to his coat. “What do you think?” He asked, finally pulling away, his forehead touching hers.

“I think you have some feelings for me… And I think… If you’re more open and honest with me… If you’re less forceful with me… I could find myself feeling for you too.” (Maybe in another time and place… Maybe if he’d never forced her to begin with. If he’d never drugged her or threatened her brother.)

“And… Who knows….? Maybe we can get out of this. You, me, my brother… Just… Leave this whole war behind.” She found herself laying her head on his shoulder. “You’ve got to be as tired of the fighting as I am… And tired of being their punching bag….”

Valtor’s hands threaded in her hair, soft tugs, just enough to draw a gasp. “Maybe one day…” He kissed the top of her head. “You never know…”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the first time she didn’t fight him or protest or try to make things difficult. (Granted, she had to swallow her pride, but she let him have her.)

Slow, exploratory. And had he been anyone else, anyone that she’d actually picked for herself, she’d call it perfect.

He kissed her body like he was paying reverence to her, paying attention to her scars and calling them beautiful. Calling _her_ beautiful.

She didn’t hold back her noises or her hands, letting herself explore him. (The better she knew his body, the better off she was. Weak points to hit, places that were sensitive and potentially still wounded…)

But it was so hard not to break, not when he treated her like a lover. The way he seemed so hell-bent on pleasuring her, his hands and mouth working her over and over until he was ready to enter her.

That was different too. Slow thrusts, angled just so. Her body feeling like it was catching fire, burning and burning and she needed it. Craved it.

He’d been surprised when she’d flipped them and started to ride him, though he didn’t complain. (He’d seemed more amused than anything, pressing teasing kisses and holding to her hips while she worked them over.)

And even after they’d finished, she’d allowed herself to curl into him, to let him hold her. He pressed a few kisses to her shoulder blades and the nape of her neck, holding her so tight to him. As if he were afraid she’d be gone. (Smart wizard. She would be gone, first chance she got to leave.)


	9. The Quiet Game

**The Quiet Game**

A month. She’d been playing nice for a month. Earning his trust, letting him have her. (And it wasn’t as if she had to fake anything… He knew how to work her over, much to her embarrassment.)

The things she’d done, however, would make her sick to think of. Just knowing that she’d allowed herself to be debased and pleasured and that she’d let herself play his games? It made her hate looking in the mirror at herself, made her despise being alive.

(Even if the end goal was freedom, it was still almost too much. But she’d earned a few books, been allowed to communicate with her brother, and had gotten a candy bar that she’d stashed for the next time Valtor was going to be gone for a while. Her plan was coming together.)

But even with things going so smoothly, even with her plan so well thought out, she still had to play nice.

Which is how she ended up in the Obsidian library sitting on Valtor’s lap, biting the inside of her mouth to keep from making noise while Valtor’s fingers were teasing and taunting at her clit.

Far too soft circles ran over the sensitive nub, followed by firmer strokes. Her hips were trying to make his fingers go faster, but the way he was holding her made it nearly impossible.

“Come on, Griffin… You’ve still got thirty minutes left, you’ll be fine.” He whispered into her ear, pressing just a tad harder against her as he spoke.

She could have came from that, but she pulled herself back, held herself at that edge. She was going to win this game, dammit. Somehow.

Teasing circles, the knowledge that she was beyond wet while he toyed with her, her own need pressing into her mind. It was awful.

But she had to keep quiet, she had to keep at the edge. She had to play, had to act. (And why the fuck did he start curling his fingers?)

At least he was nearly done with his notes, though how he could focus on them while keeping her from squirming in his lap was beyond her.

“What are we studying today, Val?” A familiar voice taunted. Griffin swore, trying to hide her face against his shoulder. Of all the times…

(She wouldn’t know, not if she didn’t look under the table. And definitely not if Griffin could keep quiet…)

“Looking into Eraklyon’s lore for Acheron. He needs new ideas for pets in his book.” He sounded so calm, so collected despite Zatura’s demeanor. (She knew. She had to know.)

“Fascinating.” The witch sat in front of them, and Griffin could feel her eyes boring into her. “What’s wrong, Griffin? You seem a little flushed.”

And of course the bastard would choose that moment to slow his pace even further, torturously rubbing her clit.

Griffin bit down hard, her hands clenching at his arm. A silent plea. “I’m fine… Just not feeling well.” She answered, trying to keep her voice level. Praying she didn’t sound too out of it.

Zatura smirked. “Right…” The witch stood back up, giving them a once over, looking more toward Valtor. “And which of Eraklyon’s monsters does Acheron find most entertaining?”

“The Wind Dragons right now… Though I find the arachnia would be far more fun to unleash. It’d give Erendor something to worry about. Right, Griffin?” Valtor gave a smirk, a single stroke down her slit.

She swallowed, trying to keep her breathing level. Dammit this was almost too much… “Erendor’s going to worry no matter what…” She offered, keeping her voice low. Zatura chuckled.

“He always did seem jumpy.” The witch purred, giving another once over to Valtor and Griffin. “And as much fun as this exchange has been, I should start heading back to training.” Zatura stood, giving a wink to Valtor.

“Oh, Val… Remember to _clean up_ after yourself. Mistress Lysslis likes order in her library.” She taunted, making her way out.

Griffin felt a kiss to the back of her neck. “You did so well… Oh so well, Griffin.” She gave a shudder, feeling herself clench around him. “I think I’ll let you come early… One on condition…” He sounded so damn smug. She could hit him, kill him…

But it wouldn’t do her any good.

“What is it?” She hated how breathless she sounded, how desperate.

Instead of telling her, he removed his fingers, making her grieve for her loss. He moved her, having her straddle his thigh. (And she would definitely kill him if the friction didn’t already feel so good.)

“Someone will-”

“Not if you’re quiet. And quick.” He kissed her, hands holding lightly to her hips. “Of course, if you think you can make it back to the room…”

He knew she couldn’t. Not in her current condition. Bastard probably had this planned…

Her body seemed to move of its own accord, grinding down on his thigh, trying for that sweet friction.

She let out a low gasp, going faster, harder, pressing close. “Please.” She could cry, cursing mentally out how broken she’d sounded. “Please.”

Valtor started to move his leg, just enough to give her that extra bit of friction. She held tight to him, feeling the warmth spreading, her orgasm starting.

Griffin would deny it, but she gave a low whine as she came, clutching to Valtor as if he were a lifeline. (And in that moment, she guessed he was…)

“And to think you’d denied yourself all this time…” He teased. Griffin shook her head, trying to catch her breath as she laid against him. She wanted to argue, wanted to start a fight after that smug comment. But she didn’t.

She had a role to play. “Keep talking. I’ve already come, you haven’t.” A challenge. He gave a hum.

“Excellent point… I concede the round to you.” A kiss to her cheek. “Are we teleporting to the room or can you walk?”

“Teleporting. It’s easier.” And to really sell the point. “Besides, I’d rather not run into Ogron in this state. He’s not one I’d like to taunt.”

The arms around her tightened, just as she’d planned. Valtor was jealous, possessive, and that meant he’d keep the others away.

“Teleporting it is…”


	10. What Lies Beneath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking Benjamin: What Lies Beneath was sort of the... Motivation-esque song I listened to for this...
> 
> Also be warned, this is one of the worst chapters. (By that I mean, it was hard for me to write because of the shit that's going on here... So be warned.)
> 
> (And yes it's more... Emotional sort of hurt than physical, but hey... It's just as bad.)

**What Lies Beneath**

It had been going so perfectly, so beautifully. She’d been compliant, almost loving. Affectionate.

Dammit he’d let himself believe her again. (Idiot! He should have known.)

He knew better. Was raised better.

_He could already hear his mothers’ cackling now…_

And yet he’d let himself believe that she could change. Had him believing that Oritel was the only one to blame for spying on them, for her betrayal. Had him believing that just maybe… Something could happen there.

But here he was, staring at an empty room, a room she wasn’t supposed to be able to escape from.

(He was going to burn down everything in the realm to find her and make her pay. He was going to remind her just who he was.)

Valtor stepped outside of the room, bracing himself to start the search for his wayward witch, until he heard arguing coming down the halls.

Darkar and Griffin.

She was pleading with him, trying to have him let her go. But Darkar wasn’t going to have it.

Good. She was _his_ and Darkar didn’t have a say.

(She’d pray to the Dragons’ for death after he was finished with her. She’d learn the consequences for making him look like a fool.)

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He shoved her into the room, tearing her away from the conversation Darkar had started about some pixie the Black Circle had maimed.

She tried to plead with him, to tell him it wasn’t like he thought. The fear in her eyes told a different story. She knew damn well what she’d been caught doing, what it meant for her.

Pathetic.

Valtor grabbed her, letting his nails dig into her skin as he shoved her to the bed. A few well-placed spells was all it took. One to paralyze, one to keep her quiet, and one to take her clothes.

“I was so good to you, and this is how you repay me? By trying to run off and join up with a bunch of do-gooders who couldn’t care less about you?” He snarled, placing a hand on her thigh.

He could see her muscles try to tense, trying to back away, but the spell held her in place. The witch tried to mouth out to him, begging him not to do what he was planning. But it wasn’t going to do her any good.

His flames came undone, burning and scorching her thighs. Her eyes shut tight, mouth opened as if to scream, tears starting.

His fire sizzled, burn marks quickly forming on her thighs. Valtor moved himself over, placing a hand on his mark on her chest. “Remember what I said at the beginning? I _own_ you, Griffin. Not the Company, not the Coven. Me.”

“I was so stupid… Thinking I could trust you again, thinking that perhaps I had had you all wrong.” He snarled at her, moving to grip her jaw, pressing down until she let out a half-gasp. “You are truly one of the Company’s lackeys, Griffin.”

“And I shouldn’t be surprised… Faragonda must have given you one hell of a speech to get you to join her and her friends.” Faragonda. That little pixie was on his list to fry. Her wings first, then her body. He’d make it slow and painful until the fairy couldn’t take it and had to be put out of her misery.

“I was going for the Arcana stone. And the little pixie beat me too it, made a mention of you, demanding to know if you were alive.” He let his magic disrobe him, moving his body over Griffin’s. There it was, that hope in her eyes.

He’d kill it.

“I didn’t tell her you were alive, that you were under my _loving_ care. I could have… But I didn’t. You know why?”

He brought his face down to hers, whispering into her ear. “Because it wouldn’t make a difference to them if you were or not. Faragonda may act like she cares, but if she really did, don’t you think you’d be out of here by now?”

He raised up, moving her legs to enter her.

Griffin winced, her mouth opened as if she could scream out, the tears flowing more freely. Yes, he knew he should have played with her a little more, but today was about teaching her a lesson, not her about pleasure or her body betraying her.

He set a slow rhythm at first, keeping low to whisper to her. “Think about it, Griffin… If they actually cared about you, there’d have been a search party or a rescue team. But there haven’t been. You’re not one of their fairies, you’re not one of the royals, and you’re damn sure not part of the Council.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, moving up to look her in the eyes.

The shine they had was disappearing, amber becoming a simple yellow, tears streaming down her face.

She reminded him of Allison in her final moments, silently pleading for him to end it all. (He did for Allison; her only crime having been loving him… But Griffin? Her torture was only beginning.)

“You’re just another casualty in their war, Griffin. Just another dark magic user who happened to fade away.” He growled, his pace becoming brutal. The tears fell more freely now, and he could almost feel her heart breaking.

Good.

(It didn’t have to be this way. She should have followed the rules. She shouldn’t have played him.)

“But don’t worry. You do belong somewhere.” He chuckled darkly, giving a bit of a gasp as he finished, pulling out of her and placing his hands on her burns. “I still _own_ you. You’re still _mine_.”

A simple claiming bite to her throat, not caring that he drew blood. Her muscles tensed, her eyes begging him to stop.

He moved away from her, his magic cleaning him up and dressing him, his own spells wearing off on her.

His heart almost broke when he could hear her silent cries become louder without the spell taking her voice, when he heard her move with unsteady steps toward the bathroom to try and patch herself up.

Almost.

(She knew the rules. This was all on her. They could have carried on simply as they had for the past month, but she’d still had hopes to escape.)


	11. Face the Truth

**Face The Truth**

He’d caught an off-day, something he planned on making good use out of. Griffin had fought him, tried to argue, to reason with him.

But in the end, he had magic and strength and she was still weak from… The incident. (She had only herself to blame, honestly. He hadn’t wanted to be _that_ rough with her, but she had to be taught a lesson.)

It didn’t take much to get her nude and bound to his (their) bed. He couldn’t help but harden a bit at the sight, _his_ marks on display. The brand on her chest, the burns along her thighs. The scars from his covenmates that hadn’t quite healed just right.

(She’d suffered through it all and still managed to breathe. Even he had to admit that was a grand feat, one that had once made him determined to sway her to his side. But now? That will of hers had to go.)

Griffin was helpless now, tugging uselessly at the binds around the magic sever on her wrists, her legs trying to tug closed.

But as helpless as she was, she did have enough freedom to attempt to squirm away, but he had his doubts that it’d do her any good. (And honestly what fun would it be if she didn’t have at least a _hope_ of escaping? He so loved to crush her spirit.)

“What now? What could possibly try and pull that you haven’t already?” She snipped, trying to raise herself up. “Surely you’re running out of ideas?” He chuckled.

“Hoping that if I bore of you, you’ll finally get to escape into Death?” Her face flushed a bit. “Oh, Griffin… Don’t worry, Dear Heart.” Valtor walked over to her, sitting beside her, pressing the back of his hand to her cheek. Almost like a lover would do. “I have my doubts that I’ll ever bore of you. And who knows, when the war is over and I take my place on the Dominian Throne, I may just have you at my side.”

She glared at him, her face contorting into a scowl. “You’re a fool if you honestly believe that Belladonna will just _give_ you the throne. Neither her nor her sisters would ever let you rule over them.”

Valtor trailed his hand down, letting his hand rest against her throat, his flames warming his palms. A warning. “Don’t worry about my mothers, Griffin… You should worry more about yourself and your brother.”

He released her, his mind rummaging through his idea for the day. “And for your insolence about what my mothers may or may not do, I think you’ve lost your right to opinions.” His waved his hand, a gag appearing wrapped around her mouth.

Valtor smirked, tapping at the center. “Now I can hear the sounds I like, while ignoring your protests.”

Her eyes seemed to narrow, a fire burning in them that hadn’t quite been there before. “I know, I know, I ignore them anyway. But I don’t exactly want to hear them today.” He kissed the top of her head, moving to stand.

“Then again, I don’t know why you deny yourself over and over again. I can honestly think of only one instance where you didn’t enjoy yourself.” He let his hand trail over body, letting his touch linger around areas he knew were sensitive.

She tried to move away, as if trying to deny that he was right. And that just wouldn’t do, not for him. Not today.

Valtor waved his hand again, a mirror forming on the ceiling. He waved his hand again, one that would force her to watch (and grant her the ability to see herself).

She made a noise of protest, her body tense.

Valtor gave a laugh, moving closer to her again. “Just relax, Griffin. I promise you’re going to enjoy yourself.”

He let his magic undress him as he climbed into bed with her. Griffin tried to squirm away from him, but the restraints held her in place. “Oh Griffin, just relax.” He kissed down her neck, nipping and teasing at the mark still there.

A kissed and licked at his mark on her chest, inching closer and closer to her breast. He could feel her body tensing and hear her breathing start to hitch. “What’s the matter, Griffin? Finding yourself already aroused?”

He placed a hand over his mark, letting his fingers dip into the skin, pressing down. She let out what could either be a moan of pain or pleasure, though he wasn’t truly interested in that. His eyes darted, watching the way her face contorted as she was forced to watch herself being pleasured.

“See? You know damn well you’re enjoying this attention, the stimulation.” He let his hand trail to her breast, massaging the flesh. His other hand moved to massage the other, listening to her groan and moan.

It was at this moment he wished he could remove the gag without having to hear her protests or pleas. He loved the moans she made, stifling them like this… It wasn’t nearly as incredible.

But it was still hot in its own way, or at least, pleasurable enough for the sounds to go straight to his cock.

He dipped his head, deciding to get his mouth and tongue involved. Wrapping his lips around a nipple, his tongue swirling around it.

Valtor could feel more than hear her moan, her back arching a bit, as if begging for more attention. He let himself chuckle around her skin and kissed over to her other breast, wanting to give it the same attention.

His fingers teased the other and another moan was ripped from her, muffled by the gag. He pulled away, looking up to the mirror so he could meet her eyes. “Oh, Griffin… I wonder what the Company of Light would think right now? Seeing you bound and gagged and practically begging for me.”

He let his fingers trail down her body, teasing closer and closer to her curls. Her body tensed, her hips moving toward him. Valtor couldn’t help but laugh, trailing up and down her slit before changing his movements to her thighs.

Valtor moved over the bed, his hands tracing small patterns on her thighs, his nails digging in ever so often. He bent down, kissing her thighs, biting down into her flesh. Not hard enough to make her bleed, but enough to leave marks.

His marks.

Griffin jerked, a low groan escaping. Valtor chuckled, keeping it up, inching his bites closer and closer to where she wanted him.

He pressed a kiss against her slit, allowing his tongue start its exploration. Teasing laps at her walls and folds, kisses to her clit.

The witch’s hips tried to raise up, tried to ride his face. Her moans just barely muffled by the gag.

He pulled away, denying her the climax she was trying so hard to work toward. Valtor chuckled, listening at the whine. “Tell me, Griffin… How exactly are you ‘hating’ this ‘torture’ again?” He licked his lips, looking into her gaze in the mirror. “Because I do believe you’re enjoying it. Dripping for it really.” He taunted. “I’d let you taste for yourself, but why ruin the look?”

He gestured to how she was bound and gagged, her skin flushed and breathing ragged. She looked wrecked. (And shamed. So ashamed…)

 _Beautiful_.

Valtor kissed his way back up her body, lining himself up just right. Slow thrusts, angled in the right way, making sure to hit all those sensitive areas.

One hand went back to massaging at her breast, his lips at her ear. “See? This is exactly what you’ve wanted all this time. Why try and deny yourself? Why deny any of it, Griffin?” He whispered, kissing at her earlobe.

The witch whined, her restraints tugged and pulled at. He could feel her clench around him, her hips trying to meet his. Trying so hard…

He kissed her over her gag, picking up his pace.

Close. He was close and he knew she was too. Just a little longer…

They both moaned, coming together.

Part of the spell had broken, her eyes were finally able to tear away from the mirror. Amber eyes closed, shame radiating from her.

(Why in the realms was she so ashamed? She’d brought herself here. This was all on her.)

Valtor pulled away, removing the gag and kissing her a bit more fully this time, forceful. He’d take her remaining breath away, and he’d have her come again. And again.

He’d have her do this until she either learned her lesson or became compliant again. Whichever happened first.


	12. Let's Try This Another Way, Shall We?

**Let’s Do This Another Way, Shall We?**

Dragons, she felt sick.

Self-disgust ate at her, her mind always replaying whatever depraved thing she’d went along with. The things he did to her, that he’d forced her to do.

All to protect her brother…

To protect the realms.

And her escape attempt… Dammit she was so stupid. (She was so close to freedom.)

Part of her never thought she’d live after that, not with how his eyes seemed to burn with rage. It was like the first night all over again, except she wasn’t drugged or aroused out of her mind. She was sober and afraid and it hurt.

And then he’d started up again, forcing her often, reminding her what was at stake. His ideas had gotten worse, all designed to make her body betray her. And the audacity of claiming that she truly _enjoyed_ his torture? That she _wanted_ it?

Dragons, she could kill him.

She’d never be clean again. No matter how many showers or how often she scrubbed her skin raw… He was always waiting, wanting.

Even when _he_ couldn’t take her himself, he’d use a toy or his fingers or mouth… And it was horrible how quickly her body would react, how fast he could get her to that edge without her truly wanting it.

(Why? Why was that ever possible? It wasn’t fair that someone could just manipulate another’s body like that… It wasn’t right.)

Footsteps coming up the hallway had her tensing on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. She was never religious, but damn if she didn’t pray. Pray that it wasn’t him coming in, that it was one of the others headed for their rooms.

She couldn’t handle another ‘session’ like the one he’d put her through the other day, forcing her to watch him manipulate her body however he pleased, wringing gasps and moans from her when all she wanted to do was cry and tell him to go to hell. What she’d give for her powers back…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor waltzed into the room as if he owned it, giving her one of those smiles that chilled her blood. “I’ve been thinking, Griffin, that this song and dance we do has become… One-sided. What do you say we change that?”

Griffin crossed her arms, feeling the frown already tugging at her lips. “One-sided? Do you hear yourself? One-sided implies there’s emotions or feelings involved! This?!” She gestured to the room, to herself, to him. “This isn’t one-sided. This is disgusting.” She growled, feeling her nails digging into her skin.

Maybe, just maybe this was all an elaborate illusion created by Lysslis… Perhaps she never left her cell and Lysslis just created something to keep her mind trapped while they tried to get their information from her subconscious.

Maybe she’d wake up… Any minute now…

Or… Maybe she was dead and this was her hell…

Forever tortured by the Dark Dragon’s Keeper.

Dammit all.

The wizard strode over to her, his hands acting as if they’d grab for her, when he pulled away. “Griffin… We’ve talked about this. If you want to ensure your brother survives all of this, especially after that stunt you pulled trying to escape, you’re going to want to keep me happy.”

He sat down in his chair, his gaze looking her over. It made her blood run cold and the bile rise in her throat. “If you don’t want me to touch you, this time, you’re going to have to touch me.” A smirk twisted in his lips as he rose up, arms to the side. “Go on, undress me.”

Griffin snorted, taking a step back. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Am I?” He gestured to the door. “I could walk out that door, right now. I’d could drag you with me into the dungeons and you can watch me have some _fun_ with your dear brother. Is that what you want? Or would you rather play the game I’ve already set up?”

She couldn’t breathe. That was a first for him… Threatening her brother with… With what he’d done to her.

What sort of choice was that? How could she _ever_ force someone, let alone her brother, to suffer the fate she had?

Griffin swallowed her pride, walking over to the wizard, starting to take off his coat. “Good girl.” He purred, leaning close enough she could hear the whispered tone. “Perhaps this time, your lessons will stick.”

She pushed the urge to strangle him with his own tie down into her being, letting that be the next thing she discarded so she wouldn’t be tempted again. (Oh, but she could imagine just how amazing it would be to have him die from her hands. How she’d gloat that the tables had turned…)

She shook her head, letting her fingers work on the buttons to his shirt, sliding it to his shoulders and watching it fall to the floor.

Valtor’s chest was like hers in many ways. Littered with various scars and wounds that just didn’t quite heal right. A few bruises. His coven bindings.

Had he not been who he was, had he not done what he’d done, she might could find him attractive. He looked strong, but more so in the way he was built for speed and agility. Lithe frame with muscles seeming to hide just underneath. A way of concealing just how strong he was.

Unlike other men she’d known, specifically Hagen and Codatorta, who just screamed out as stereotypical soldiers.

“Are you actually admiring me or trying to figure out how you could kill me and get away with it?” Valtor’s taunting tone had cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the reality at hand.

She narrowed her eyes, her lips frowning. “I had to talk myself out of choking you with your own tie. It’d be one thing for me to die up here, but I have an idiot brother to look after.”

Valtor gave a chuckle. “Didn’t realize how kinky you were. If I could trust you, I might actually let you try that.” Blue eyes shined. He was actually trying to joke with her.

“Don’t. Don’t try to make this into something it isn’t.” She let her hands move to his pants, loosening the belt and zipper. “Don’t act like I’m doing this because I _want_ too.”

“Then tell me about the Company of Light. All the secrets you’ve been hiding about them, starting with where the Fortress is. Tell me that, and you and your brother can walk out of here unscathed. Hell, I’ll even teleport you to a realm to hide out at.” He kept his hands away from her, but gestured toward his pants. “But unless you do that, we’re going through with our game.”

Games. It was always going to be a game to him.

Bastard.

Griffin took a deep breath, inching his pants and boxers down, moving away as he toed off his shoes and socks, stepping out of the clothing pile. He sat down on the edge of the bed, moving to lay down, his gaze still on her. “Undress. After all, I’m not to touch you.”

She bit her tongue, fighting the urge to snap at him. Instead she followed his orders: allowing her hands to slide off her shirt and unclasp her bra, moving to slide out of her pants and panties. “Happy now?”

“Appreciative, sure, but we’re not done here.” He gestured for her to join him on the bed. “ _You’re_ touching _me_ this time, explore all you want.” The bastard had the audacity to wink at her, beckoning her over.

No point in fighting him, not with her brother on the line…

So she obeyed, walking toward the bed and climbing in with him. She’d straddled him, trying to come up with a plan to make this go quickly.

No need in dragging out her torment… Right?

Griffin leaned over him, pulling him into a kiss, one he let her lead. (Mostly. She could feel him fighting to hold her down, to pull her closer to him.)

She kissed down his neck, letting herself bite him. Hard. (It’d be the only thing she’d be able to get away with in this scenario, the only way to remind him that she was still her.)

Valtor laughed, shaking his head a bit when she pulled away, his magic already healing the wound. “Seems someone came to play. This is already proving to be fun.” He leaned back, tilting his head. “Do continue, I’m already so enthralled.”

The pillows… She could smother him, just so easily…

Task. Stay on task.

Griffin let her hands trail over his chest, down to where she was straddling him, back up his body. He let out a groan, urging her to continue. And she did.

Letting her hands wander over him, trailing behind with her lips. Anything to make this go faster, quicker.

She moved off him, trailing her hands and lips down toward his cock, mentally preparing to get him off. A swirl of her tongue there, a tease from her fingers here, just this much-

“Stop.” He sounded breathless, soft. “When I come, I’m going to come inside of you.” He rose up, looking her over. “Since I’m not allowed to, why don’t you touch yourself for me?”

It sounded like a request, but Griffin could sense the tone in the words. Fine… She’d let herself fall deeper and deeper into the hole of debasement. If it kept her brother alive, she could stomach it.

Griffin let her fingers tease her slit, biting back a gasp when she’d realize just how wet she was. _From pleasuring him_.

Dammit she had to escape somehow… She had too. This was… This went beyond her body simply betraying her.

But she continued her own ministrations, not wanting to let on just how troubled she was… Or how far gone.

Teasing her fingertips across her clit, letting her palm rub against her for that friction she needed. She couldn’t fight the soft moan, her eyes closing as her fingers started to go a little faster. “Griffin. Don’t get too far gone. You’re going to ride me.”

She swore, slowing her fingers down before removing them.

Great. Of course, that’s what he wanted…

He wanted her to ride him so he could see what’d he done to her, how gone she was. He wanted to see her take from him what she never wanted. Pleasure.

Griffin didn’t argue, didn’t fight. She bit her lip, moving to straddle him again, this time being careful to make sure he entered her.

_He always had to be a perfect fit for her. Why? Why add more to an already unbearable situation?_

She moved slowly, trying to find a way to get this over with the fastest. Hands planted against his chest, hips rocking forward and back to match his. Angled to hit her just right.

Griffin did her best to keep her noise level down, she did, but there were moans that escaped from her, little gasps of pleasure.

But this time, they seemed to be drowned out by his own. Blue-grey eyes looking at her with reverence and…

The moans, the sounds he made.

 _It wasn’t fair_.

_None of this was fair._

She came before he did, triggering his orgasm. Griffin couldn’t help fall to him, trying to gasp for air, to catch her breath.

Arms wrapped around her, fingers tracing patterns on her back. Valtor was trying to catch his own breath, nuzzling into her.

_Wrong. This was so wrong._


	13. Beg

**Beg**

She was going to kill him.

She was going to-fuck… She was going to kill him.

How dare he?

How could he just leave her like this?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Valtor, in what was most likely one of his most horrible ideas to remind her that her own body was a traitor, had left her on the bed, naked and forced to stay in place by a damn paralytic spell, with a vibrator teasing her clit.

On a low setting. Too low to make her orgasm, but too high to let her relax. And he’d just left her.

(Dammit he was trying to make her _need_ him. And in this case, it was working… Too well.)

She was going to kill him. She was going to kill him just as soon as he’d let her come. _If he didn’t ruin it like he had before…_

Griffin let out a gasp, feeling her body try and move toward the vibrator. The setting had increased slightly, the tickling/pressured feeling almost enough to get her off. Her clit almost couldn’t handle the stimulation increase, and then it was gone, back to the low setting.

She was going to kill him.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Griffin would deny it to her grave. _Deny_ it over and over again.

She was nearly in tears, her body aching and wanting and the damn vibrator wasn’t helping her at all.

She whined, she’d moaned. And when Valtor finally came back into the room, looking her over with that smug smile?

She’d pleaded.

“Please…”

“Please what?” Valtor asked, taunting her as he had the first time they’d played a similar game. “Touch you?”

He placed a hand on her thigh, teasing it closer and closer to her slit, to the vibrator. “Is this what you want?” He asked, listening as she moaned.

“Or something a little more direct?” Valtor held the vibrator, moving over her clit and then away from it, letting it go in small circles around her.

“Valtor… Please. No games. Just…” She felt her face flushing, the setting increasing and making her cry out. “Please fuck me.”

The vibrator shut off and before she was even fully aware of how he’d done it, and he was inside of her. Slow, long thrusts. A pace that just happened to pick up.

She’d felt the paralytic spell wearing off, her arms wrapping around him as she tried her damndest to meet him thrust for thrust.

It was so humiliating; letting herself fall into him like this, letting him have his way with her. (Hell, even begging him for relief was humiliating. Who the hell did that?)

When they’d finished, he’d kissed the top of her head, giving a bit of a breathy laugh. “I knew you’d eventually get needy… Don’t worry, I’ll always take good care of you.”

She wanted to spit at him, to swear. To scream.

But she felt so tired, so drained… All she could do was lay beside him and close her eyes.


	14. Wrong

**Wrong**

Griffin could barely move. Everything ached, she could barely see straight (as if her vision wasn’t bad enough without her glasses, add in a migraine and…)

She felt sick. Warm. Cold. Too much at once. (Dammit if she had her magic… She could figure out if it was Lunarian Flu or the Eraklyon Cold. Both possible considering Valtor’s recent travel history.)

“You realize if you don’t eat, your brother pays for it, right?” Valtor came into the room, his tone snippy. But laced… With concern?

“You think I don’t know that?” She growled, raising up to glare at him. Or attempt to. Her mind felt like it was swimming and it forced her to hold her head in her hands. “Could you please get me something for this migraine?”

Valtor frowned, moving closer to her. “How long have you been sick?”

“Don’t act concerned. Just get me something for this headache so I can deal with whatever bullshit you’re planning for today.” Griffin moved to sit up. “I’m pretty sure this is that damn Lunarian flu you’ve said has spread among your _friends_.”

He went to the medical supplies he kept under the bathroom sink’s cabinet, bringing it to her so she could see for herself what he was giving her. “I do apologize. Trust me, I hate dealing with you sick potentially more than you hate being sick.”

“Oh what, does it cut into your _fun_?” She glowered.

The look he gave her was nearly unreadable, some vague emotions clouding in his eyes. His gaze cut away and he went back to searching the first aid kit and the potions he had stocked. “Believe it or not, I didn’t want any of this to happen. But you can’t just toy with people and expect to get away with it, Griffin. Especially not the Coven.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She glowered, watching as he glanced through the potions. “Linphean root and Melodian snapps. It should dull the ache.”

“I could take you down to Lucinda, you know? Make sure it’s just the flu and not full on pneumonia.”

“What? Don’t want me to die before you get bored?”

“Because you’re no good to me dead. And I’d rather not have to explain to your brother how you died while in my care.” Valtor poured her a bit of the potion into a glass. “Steady your hands, you don’t want to spill.”

She tried to glare at him, but just the effort had her head pounding. “My hands aren’t what’s wrong with me.” Griffin kept her voice low, holding out her hands to take the glass. She downed it, trying not to get hung up on the taste.

Bitter. Sour. Somewhat slimy. But needed to try and get rid of the aches and swimming feeling in her head. (And potentially give her some of her energy back… But that was just wishful thinking.)

“Lucinda could do a healing spell. Make things easier.”

“I am not going into the rest of Obsidian’s castle and exposing myself further to whatever shit you and your covenmates have gotten into.”

Valtor glowered at her. “You act like we purposefully got sick on Lunaris. This illness that’s going around is something you can thank your friends at the Company of Light for. A woodland elf and this green-haired witch broke out some sort of illness bombs.”

Griffin felt her heart stop. Palladium and Zarathustra… They’d finally managed to weaponize sickness. Palladium’s potions and Zarathustra’s finesse with explosions just…

A wonderful combination. But one that had this unintended consequence. If she ever managed to get herself and Salvador free, she was going to give the older witch a piece of her mind.

“Fantastic. I’ll be sure to give them hell if I ever get out of here.” She laid back down, eyes feeling heavy. “Or maybe… Get Salvador too…”

She felt the bed dip, arms pulling her close. A kiss to the top of her head. “If this fever doesn’t break, I’m taking you down to the infirmary.”

“Don’t act like you care.” Her voice didn’t have its usual venom, sleep worming its way into her system.

Sleep. Sleep was a healer on its own… And he’d leave her alone… She just needed to sleep…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She did find herself feeling better later in the week, though the nausea and random soreness still came and went. After effects of the flu… Or reminders from things that had happened earlier in the month…

Despite the reprieve she’d been given while sick, she was thrilled to be feeling better. More conscious. More in control.

Able to fight back. Or at least, twist his words and watch his eyes narrow and steam come from his hands. Normal.

_Who was she kidding? How was any of this normal?_

_Abuse was never normal. Rape was never normal._

_Being trapped in a room by a spell without her magic? Not normal._

_So how did she get to this point? Acting like it was normal?_

_Stupid. Stupid. It was wrong… All of it._

_Dragons she needed to find a way out… Or a way to find it in her heart to betray the Company and get herself and her brother free… But something had to give._

_And soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read "Left" then you'll know what's *actually* wrong with our witch...


	15. All I Want Is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever heard "Snow White Queen" by Evanescence? No? You should. Because this chapter (and this story in general) is sort of Snow White Queen level obsession...

**All I Want Is You**

Valtor hated when she was like this. Tense, lips red from biting down hard enough to draw blood.

All he was doing was giving her what she wanted. Her dress was raised, underwear pushed down while his fingers and lips worked her over.

He curled his fingers, swirled his tongue, teased her clit. But all he’d gotten were muffled whines and her hands clenching the bed, eyes shut tight. (Sometimes he wondered who she imagined was in his position, but he never dwelt on it long, not wanting to find himself flaring up. Not in a moment like this.)

The wizard kissed up her body, keeping his fingers rubbing at her clit, propping up beside her _just so_ , wanting to take in her face. “I’ll never understand why you try to fight it. Honestly, you’re just denying yourself in the long run.”

If she’d just loosen her self-control for a moment, if she just gave in to him, she’d have such a better time with this.

(Not by much though, considering how wet she was, how flushed her face had gotten.)

She tried her best to glare him down, but the effect was ruined by how blown her eyes looked, amber turned brown by arousal.

He rose up, planning on disrobing when he paused. Something wasn’t right in the realm.

_Crash. Boom. Crash._

Fighting could be heard all around them, screams and yells and magic was being thrown. He could feel the thrumming of the magic scales tipping.

Valtor smirked, raising up a bit. “I wonder if the Black Circle finally got tired of each other?” Only the four of them could cause such a ruckus, probably bringing in other members of their coven to try and fight one another.

He stood, deciding it would be best to check. (His money would be on Gantlos taking over the group, his resolve sturdier than Ogron’s.)

Opening the door was something he’d soon regret.

A burst of blue energy knocked him clean off his feet and into his dresser, the wooden structure falling down on top of him.

His body ached, bits of nails digging into his skin, drawing blood.

“Griffin? Oh dragons, you’re alive!” An all-too cheery voice swooned, the little tinkling of fairy wings moving.

“I mean, I knew you had to be, It’s part of the reason we’re- You know what, we should just go.” Faragonda tried to sway the witch.

Valtor couldn’t help but watch in amusement as Griffin pushed away from the bed, righting her clothes and shaking her head.

Her whole body was shaking and he could tell she wasn’t believing the sight of her counterpart. (He couldn’t either, if he were honest. Fairies didn’t tend to last long on Obsidian, and yet here Faragonda was, in her blue and flowing Enchantix glory.)

“That’s a good imitation of a fairy, Lysslis, but I’m not falling for that again.” Griffin’s voice wavered as she spoke, walking away from Faragonda. “I’m not falling for it. Not this time.”

Perfect. She didn’t even believe her friend was real! Her hopes of escape _had_ been dashed. Burned.

She was going to stay put.

With him.

Valtor couldn’t help but laugh, dusting himself off as he got to his feet. “See Faragonda? She’s made her choice. If you fly along now, I might forgive you for that sucker-blast you pulled.” He stood to his full height, keeping his gaze on the fairy.

Faragonda was fuming with righteous anger, the negativity just falling off of her in waves. But she didn’t seem to have lost her cool. “Griffin, I don’t know what the hell they’ve done to you here, but I’m real.” Her wings started fluttering fast, the fairy turning on Valtor.

Ocean blue eyes that threatened to drown him, full of anger and… Hatred? Did fairies feel such things? “She’s going home!” A strong blast of energy flashed toward him, giving him just seconds to dodge, ducking near the door.

That fairy had just made herself a pest. “She is home!” He growled out, sending flames toward the fairy.

Faragonda put up a shield, rushing to Griffin’s side. “Griffin, look at me. Do you remember how I got my Charmix? I got it because I went into the Crypt of Cloud Tower with you, despite my claustrophobia. We exorcized the demon that Griselda accidentally summoned. Remember?” She sounded desperate, pleading with Griffin to understand.

Dammit. Griffin was buying it, tears coming to her eyes as she pulled the fairy into a hug. (So willing to give affection to someone who’d taken so long to come to her aid… Yet was repulsed by someone who’d been at her side day-in and day-out? No.)

Valtor growled, a flaming blast separating the two of them. “How touching. Neither one of you are leaving this castle, however. I’m sure Gantlos or Duman would love to add you wings to their collection.” He snarled at Faragonda, blasting her into the wall as he grabbed Griffin.

“Fara!”

He let his nails dig into her skin, a reminder of who she belonged to. “Let me go!” She snarled, twisting and pulling to try and break loose. “Of course, after we call Duman. I think you need to see a dewinging in person. Make you remember who you’re dealing with.”

A whistle caught his attention, Faragonda getting to her feet as her wings fluttered angrily. There was something to the fairy, magic just seeming to radiate from her. Negative magic. Negative energy.

“Do you know why my powers still worked at Cloud Tower, even when the building would drain the energy from the other fairies, Valtor?” She asked, her voice eerily calm, a smile gracing her face. “Because I was raised as a witch, even enrolled in Cloud Tower’s programs…”

“Until my wings sprouted during orientation. But I never did lose that edge I had.” She’d been building up the energy, a blinding light had him cowering. Then there was the searing pain.

It had him flying through the walls of his room, forcing him through wall after wall. He’d ended up in the hallway, close to where more fighting was going on.

Saladin was fighting harshly against Maeve, an uneven match considering the wizard had already been aged by the banshee’s magic.

Others were fighting; shadow creatures against some sort of insect army, the Black Circle against a group of Solarian guards.

All up and down the hallways. Swords clashed, magic was cast, shouts and commands filling the silence.

He shook his head, getting to his feet. He couldn’t let himself be distracted, he had to catch up to Faragonda and Griffin. He couldn’t let them leave.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” A wall of green energy went up, blocking his path.

A familiar voice, one that had Valtor smirking as he turned to face his challenger. Salvador.

It was easy to see the family resemblance. Purple hair and amber eyes, slight figures that belied the true strength underneath them. He let his flames come into palms. “If I were you, Salvador, I wouldn’t challenge those above my power level.”

“Oh trust me, I’m more of a lover than a fighter.” Valtor frowned, some substance covering his hands and extinguishing the flames as the wizard walked closer. “But you see, I’m sort of looking for someone. And from what I’ve been told, you’re the one who knows where she is.”

“So I’m going to ask nicely. Where the hell is my sister?” The substance constricted against his arms, working it’s way up.

Why were they so much alike? Another family resemblance he supposed, a disregard for personal safety. “Where she should be, my bed.”

That didn’t settle well with the older brother, more of that substance was created, climbing up his legs this time, constricting around him. “Where the hell is my sister?”

“In her grave.” He growled, his inner flames surging and disrupting the goo’s hold on him. He was done playing nice.

Fiery blasts left his palms, joy surging inside as the younger wizard was having to fight to keep from getting burned. To the left, to the right, down, up, shield. He was going to wear himself down.

“What’s the matter? Getting burned out?” Valtor taunted, finally getting the wizard pinned by the flames.

Smoke, there was so much smoke, but he’d make it. Salvador, however, wouldn’t. Valtor let the smoke rise, his flames inching closer and closer to where he’d had the younger man trapped.

Sizzling. The flames began to fizzle out, water forcing them down. (And soaking Valtor in the process, something that wasn’t needed.) “The hell?!” He growled, looking to the air.

Niobe. The Enchantix fairy had her eyes narrowed, a bemused smile on her lips. “I figured you could use a cooldown.” She teased, fluttering down to take Salvador by the hand. “Let’s go.”

“Not until he tells me where-” Salvador growled out, his voice cut off by Niobe’s fingers snapping, quieting him down.

“She’s fine, Sal.” Niobe glowered at Valtor, a hint of a smirk on her lips. “Faragonda and Cody have her.”

Valtor felt the flames underneath his skin coming to life, the inferno escaping from his body as he yelled out.

The hallway burned away; ashes fell.

But it hadn’t done him any good. Niobe and Salvador had left. The only reminder of their ‘visit’ being some of Salvador’s cloak that had burned off.

_Son of a bitch!_

_They’d pay dearly for this. All of them would burn in agony and he’d walk over their ashes._

_And Griffin would watch. She’d learn her place._


	16. Rebirth

**Rebirth**

He awoke with a start, gasping for air and flinging the covers off.

Too warm. He was too warm. And then too cold.

He tried his best, searching for his inner flames, trying to orient himself, to ground himself in the moment.

Split.

His Dragon Fire no longer felt whole. It had been broken apart. A part of it was gone, missing.

No…

Reborn.

He could vaguely hear the cries of a baby in his mind, could vaguely see a mark on the child, _his_ mark, the _Dragon’s Mark_.

His child.

Valtor rose up, heading for the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face.

Reality. He had to face reality. There was no…

Child.

But there could be. It would line up.

Explain why he hadn’t seen her on the battlefield.

She’d been pregnant… With _his_ child.

No… Their child.

Valtor couldn’t help but laugh, feeling joy flooding his system. They had a child together; they’re own child. Did they look like him? Or her? He hoped they took after her in looks, but him in attitude. (Arguing with two Griffin’s would be two too-many.)

Was it a girl? Did he have a daughter? Or a son? A boy?

He was a father. He’d be the best father. (His mothers wouldn’t even touch his child.)

The possibilities…

A child with his power and Griffin’s brilliance… The child would be unstoppable. A truly powerful witch. Or wizard. (He honestly didn’t care which… They were his. So long as they’re healthy. That’s what mattered most…)

Pain. Pain throbbed around him, his fires extinguishing.

A gasp escaped his lips, the feeling of the flame’s warmth dimming.

NO!

No.

He felt pain running flooding into his body.

She couldn’t… There was no way she’d killed their child. She wouldn’t have. Griffin would never kill a child.

Would she? No. She wouldn’t kill _their_ child.

No… Their flames weren’t extinguished.

He could still feel the child’s presence. But it had dimmed.

 _Damn her_!

Light magic. She must have hidden their child around so much light magic, it hid the child’s power.

Valtor stood up, finding his resolve.

Fine. That was fine.

If she wanted to try and hide their child, she could.

But he was going to burn the realms down to find the child. He was going to hunt for them, destroy anyone who got in his way. No one, not even Marion or his mothers would be safe until he had his child.

(And Griffin. He was going to bring her back into the fold too. They’d be a family. One way or another.)


End file.
